Experiment X909912
by TransYaoiboy666
Summary: What if fang had a sister who was at the School and followed them to the forest after the breakout.
1. Chapter 1

p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin-top: 0px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"(Max's POV)/spanbr style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important; content: display: block; margin-top: 0.8em;" / /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin-top: 0px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"After the whole commotion with Angel telling us all about what she heard at the school Iggy cocked his head sideways. "Hey guys I hear something, it like a stumbling sound." He said curiously. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;""Like Erasers," I said stiffening. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;""No," He said quietly, "like a little kid." Just as I was about to stand up a little girl with and you're not going to believe this when I tell you … wings fell out of the like 2 story tree and landed in between Fang. And I'm not lying to you reader, wings. The little girl sat up rubbing her head./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I walked over to her and said, "Who are you? And where did you come from?" /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"The girl looked up at me and said, "I'm Experiment X909212, and I followed you from the school."/span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"Well, I'm not going to lie to you reader when I say I gasped along with everyone else, except for Fang who just stood there dumbstruck. Then suddenly I remembered where I saw this girl, she was in the crate on the other side of angel. After I snapped out of my shock I knelt down next to the girl and examined every one of her features. She had downy black hair, blood red cat's eyes, deathly pale skin, and delicate looking black wings. I don't know why but she looked like the spitting image of Fang but with red eyes. I read the label on her crate at the School, but I couldn't remember what it said. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;""Hey Angel, do you remember what the label on her crate said?" I asked Angel. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;""Experiment X909212 sister DNA of Experiment X214862," Angel said shakily. Mine and Fang's eyes widened, X214862 was Fang's number./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I couldn't believe it, Fang has a little sister. I thought Angel and Gazzy were the only siblings. Well I now know I was wrong. Anyway, the little girl shakily stood up dusted off her hospital like gown that was just like Angel's. I lifted her off the ground, and damn was she light. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I set her down next to Angel and said, "Okay, so the first order of business, a name." /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"Iggy was the first one to suggest something, "How about Izzy?" /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"We all looked at him and said, "No." I stared at the girl who looked so adorable and sweet. /span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I've got it, I thought. "Cookie." I breathed the words tasted sweet, just like cookies./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"Everyone nodded in agreement, but the official Cookie said something no one should ever say, "What's a cookie?" Fang and Iggy facepalmed./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I was about to grab Cookie off the ground and fly to a store and get her a Cookie when Fang grabbed my shoulder and said calm and quiet, "I think we should get them to sleep." I nodded in agreement./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;" "Hey time to go to bed," I said. We all gathered around. I held out my left fist, Fang put his on top of it, and everyone else except Cookie did too./span/p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;" /p  
p style="line-height: 1.8em; color: #222222; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; background-color: #fefefe; clear: none !important;"span style="line-height: 1.8em; white-space: inherit; clear: none !important; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; text-decoration-color: currentcolor !important;"I looked at Cookie and said, "Come on, you're a part of the flock to." Cookie had to stand on the very tips of her toes to finish the stack, and then we taped each other's fists with our right./span/p 


	2. Chapter 2

(Cookie's POV)

"Hey! I found it!" A White coat yelled cornering me. About 8 more White coats surrounded me and started stabbing me with sharp syringes.

"Big Brother!" I screamed as I bolted up to a sitting position. Soon everyone surrounded me. I gripped my knees and bawled. I felt a soft hand on my head and looked up to see Fang patting my head. He wiped away my tears with the back of his sleeve and helped me stand up. I stumbled to keep my balance cause I hadn't eaten in 2 days. After Fang decided I was too weak to stand on my own, he picked me up and walked over to Max.

A few minutes later we started taking off. While at the School most of my meals were taken and given to Angel. At the time I was happy to give them to one that needed more energy, but then two days ago they stopped feeding me altogether. As a result, I couldn't stay air born for more than 2 minutes, till my energy reserves failed and I fell. I woke up next to Max who was holding her head in pain, I tried to get into her head to help but I was pushed back by some unseen barrier. After a few hours of her writhing in pain, Max crawled over to a bush and puked. Minutes later, Max was gasping next to me.

I tried to sit up, but I just feel back on the ground. The world was getting kind of fuzzy.

"Hey, Cookie you don't look so good." Nudge said lifting me up. "Damn kid! You're light." When Fang and Max stood up, they walked over to us. "I think she's too weak to fly." Nudge said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, that is obvious Nudge." Max sighed regaining her composer. Soon we were in the air, I was being carried by Iggy.

If I don't get some food this trip was going o be rough.


	3. Chapter 3

(Cookie's POV)

I woke up to darkness and screaming noise. We were definitely here, the big apple Finally. I could see that Fang was now holding me. I just stayed there, not moving and squeezing my eyes shut to keep from crying. This noise was almost as scary as thunder. When the noise died I felt us moving away from the source. I opened my eyes to see we were in the branches of tall trees.

Soon Fang saw that I was awake and Informed the others.

"Hey, Cook! How you feelin'" Gazzy asked smiling.

I smiled back and replied, "I feel a little better, but I'm really hungry."

"I'm sorry," Angel said frowning.

"No you couldn't help where the White coats were getting the food," I said trying to make her feel better.

"Um...what's this all about?" Max asked, confused.

"Well," Angel started, "When I was at the School the White coats took most of the food they were giving to Cookie and gave it to me."

I laughed, "No, don't be sorry," I replied, "You needed the food more then I did."

Angel shook her head vigorously, "No you needed it more, you're younger and need more food." I was going to argue further but the world started spinning again. I clung to Fangs shirt for what felt like dear life.

"Big brother," I said trying to get his attention.

"What?" Fang said in a sort of monotone.

" I think my tummy's trying to eat itself," I replied gripping my tummy with my free hand.

Fang looked at Max who said, "Don't worry Cookie, we'll get some food into you first thing in the morning." I nodded and soon fell asleep on Fang.


	4. Chapter 4

(Max's POV)

When we woke up at dawn the next morning, there were already joggers, bicycles, even horseback riders weaving their way along the miles and miles of trails in Central Park. We slipped out of the trees and onto the sidewalk. Nudge started blabbing on and on about our surroundings. When Iggy found a street vendor, I bought 7 small bags of honey roasted peanuts (they really did smell like heaven). I found Gazzy looking at balloons. I handed the bag of peanuts she surprisingly ate them very slowly.

"Hey, Cookie?" Nudge asked her mouth still full of peanuts.

"Hm..." Cookie replied still slowly chewing her small handful of peanuts.

"How many days has it been since you ate last?" Nudge asked finishing her peanuts.

"About 2 days maybe 3." Cookie replied swallowing. Suddenly something about the clown caught my eye. She was watching a sleek, dark-haired guy strolling down a path. Their gazes met. A chill went down my back. Just like that, my enjoyment of the day burst. I was swept into fear, anger, and an intense self-preservation reflex.

"Iggy, heads up," I whispered. "Get the others." Beside me, Angel was wound tight, her hand clenching mine hard. We walked fast toward the others. Fang, doing an automatic sweep of the area, saw my urgent expression. In the next moment, he had clamped a hand on Nudge's and the Gasman's shoulders and spun them around to walk quickly away.

Iggy quickly grabbed Cookie and followed. To make a long story short we ran from the Erasers and found ourselves in the zoo.


	5. Chapter 5

(Cookie POV)

I was still a little hungry but being in place this exciting made me forget my tummy.

"Hey big brother," I asked Fang as he took me from Iggy.

"Yeah?" He replied.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, you've never been outside the lab." Nudge said before big brother could say anything.

"It's a zoo, they keep animals in cages so people can look at them." Gazzy budded in. My excitement quickly faded and I berried my face in Fang's shirt.

"I don't like this place...it's scary," I mumbled holding back tears.

Fang walked over to Max and said, "This place gives me and Cookie the creeps."

"You Too? I'm going nuts." Max agreed, "It's flashback city. And I have..." She paused, I took the opportunity to read her mind,' a headache' she thought. For some strange reason, I kind of blanked out. After I regained my focus we were out of the scary zoo.

I looked up at Max and asked, "Max..."

She looked at me and said, "Yeah Cookie?"

"Umm...Can we get something to eat?" I asked. She laughed and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

(Max's POV)

"You know what I like about New York?" the Gasman said, noisily chewing his kosher hot dog. "It's full of New Yorkers who are freakier than we are."

"So we blend?" Iggy asked.

I glanced over at him. He was licking an ice-cream cone that was like a mini him: tall, thin, and vanilla. He was already just over six feet tall-not bad for a fourteen-year-old. With his height, his pale skin, and his light reddish-blond hair, I'd always felt he was the most visible of all of us. But here on this broad avenue, we were surrounded by gorgeous supermodels, punk rockers, Goths, and leather-ites, suits, students, people from every other country and, well, yeah, seven kids with bulky windbreakers, ratty clothes, and questionable hygiene didn't really stick out.

"More or less," I said. "Of course, that won't help with the Erasers." Automatically, I did a perimeter sweep, a 360 around us to pick up signs of trouble.

"Speaking of which," Fang said, "we seem to be dealing with version 6.0."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said. "This year's crop looks more human. And there are females. Which is a bummer." Even as I said the words, I was examining every face we passed, looking for a hint of feral sleekness, a cruel light in the eyes, a hard slash of a mouth.

"Yeah. We all know how bloodthirsty females are. Dirty fighting and so on," Fang said.

I rolled my eyes. What a comedian.

"Can I have a burrito?" Nudge asked as we approached yet another street vendor. She faced me, bouncing backwards down the sidewalk. "What's a 'nish? I can have a burrito, right?"

"Ka-nish," I corrected her. "It's like a square of mashed potatoes, fried." I was scanning every building for what, I didn't know. A big sign that said The Institute?

"What's sauerkraut?" Angel asked.

"You don't want it," I said. "Trust me."

We each got a burrito, hot and wrapped in foil.

"I like being able to just buy food as we walk along," Nudge said happily. "If you walk a couple of blocks, there's someone selling food. And delis. I love delis! They're everywhere! Everywhere you go, there's everything you need: food, delis, banks, subway stops, buses, cool stores, fruit stands right on the street. This is the best place, I'm telling you. Maybe we should always live here."

"I just like being able to eat food when I'm hungry." Cookie said biting her pretzel.

"It would certainly be convenient for the Erasers," I said. "They wouldn't have to track us down in the middle of nowhere."

Nudge frowned, Cookie squeezed her eyes shut, and Angel took my hand.

"But you're right, Nudge," I said, sorry for raining on her parade. "I know what you mean." But it was costing money, and we were running out. And we had a mission.

Suddenly, I stopped dead, as if I'd been poleaxed.

Fang examined my face. "That pain?" he asked quietly, glancing around as if planning where to take me if I suddenly crumpled.

I shook my head and inhaled deeply. "Cookies!"

He looked at me blankly.

I spun in a circle to see where the aroma was coming from. Duh. Right in front of us was a small red storefront. Mrs. Fields. The scent of cookies right out of the oven wafted out onto the street. It smelled like Ella's house, like safety, like home.

"I must have cookies," I announced and went into the store, Angel trotting at my side.

I gave cookie to Cookie and she loved it. Duh. I knew she would.

The cookies were fabulous.

But not as good as homemade


	7. Chapter 7

(Max's POV)

"So what's your big plan for finding the Institute?" Iggy asked.

"I'm tired of walking," Nudge said. "Can we just sit for a minute?" Without waiting for an answer, she sank onto some broad stone steps in front of a building. She rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes.

"Uh…" Just walk around until we see it didn't seem like a good response. But Iggy had hit the nail on the head: I didn't know how to find the Institute. I didn't know what it looked like or even, really, if it was in New York City.

The Gasman, Cookie, and Angel sat down next to Nudge. I was struck once again by what incredibly cute kids they are-for mutants.

"How about a phone book?" Fang suggested. "Every once in a while I see one."

"Yeah, that's a possibility," I said, frustrated by not coming up with something better. We needed an information system of some kind-like a computer we could hack into. A large marble lion caught my eye; this building had two of them. Very fancy-schmancy.

I blinked and saw four lions, like images superimposed on one another. They flickered in front of my eyes, and I shook my head a bit. I blinked again, and everything was normal. A heavy weight settled on my chest-my brain was malfunctioning again.

"So what are we going to do?" Iggy asked.

Yeah, leader, lead.

Stalling for time, worried that my head might explode at any moment, I looked up at the building in front of us. It had a name. It was called the New York Public Library of Humanities and Social Sciences. Hello. A library.

I jerked my head at the building. "We're going to start in here," I said briskly and clapped twice to get the younger set on its feet. "I figure they've got computers, databases…" I let my voice trail off and started purposefully up the steps. Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel followed me.

"Her thoughts are weird." Cookie said trying to climb the steps.

"How does she do that?" I heard Fang ask Iggy.


	8. Chapter 8

(Max's POV)

Inside, the library was awesome. None of us had ever been inside one, and we were staring like the out-of-town yokels we were.

"May I help you?" A young guy was standing behind a polished wooden counter. He looked faintly disapproving, but not like he wanted to rip our lungs out, so I figured he wasn't an Eraser.

"Yes." I stepped forward, looking as serious and professional as a fourteen-year-old mutant who had never been in a library can look. "I was hoping to find information about a certain institute that I think is in New York." I smiled at him, putting real warmth into it, and he blinked. "Unfortunately, I don't know the whole name or where in New York it is. Is there a computer I could use to search? Or some sort of database?"

He glanced over all of us. Angel stepped up next to me and put her hand in mine. She smiled sweetly at the guy, looking, well, angelic.

"Fourth floor," the guy said after a pause. "There are computers in a room off the main reading room. They're free, but you have to sign in."

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling again. Then we hustled to the elevators.

The Gasman punched number four.

"Well, aren't you the charmer?" Fang muttered, not looking at me.

"What?" I asked, startled, but he didn't say anything. We rode upward, hating being in a small enclosed space. Sweat was breaking out on my brow by the time the doors slid open on the fourth floor, and we leapt out as if the elevator had been pressurized.

We immediately found a bank of computers with instructions on how to surf the Net. All we had to do was sign in at the desk. I signed "Ella Martinez" with a flourish, and the clerk smiled at me.

That was the last cheerful thing that happened for the next hour and a half. Fang and I searched in every way we could think of and found a million institutes of one kind or another, in Manhattan and throughout New York state, but none of them seemed promising. My favourite? The Institute for Realizing Your Pet's Inner Potential. Anyone who can explain that to me, drop a line.

Angel was lying under the desk at our feet, murmuring quietly to herself. Nudge and the Gasman were playing hangman on a piece of scrap paper. Violence occasionally broke out, since neither of them could spell their way out of a paper bag.

Iggy was sitting motionless in a chair, and I knew he was listening to every whisper, every scraped chair, every rustle of fabric in the room, creating an invisible map of what was happening all around him. And Cookie was sitting on his lap, playing with few hair ties that she found. Damn that kid was Cute.

I typed in another search command, then watched in dismay as the computer screen blurred and crashed. A string of orange words, fail, fail, fail, scrolled across the screen before it finally went black and winked out.

"It's almost closing time, anyway," Fang said.

"Can we sleep here?" Iggy said softly. "It's so quiet. I like it in here."

"Uh, I don't think so," I said, looking around. I hadn't realized that most people had left-we were the only ones in the room. Except for a guard, in uniform, who had just spotted us. She started walking toward us, and something about her, her tightly controlled pace, made my inner alarms go off.

"Let's split," I muttered, pulling Iggy out of his chair.

We skittered out of there, found the stairs, and raced down as fast as we could. I was expecting Erasers at any moment. But we burst out into the dim late-afternoon light and ran down the stone steps without anyone following us.


	9. Chapter 9

(Max's POV)

"Can we take the subway back to the park?" Nudge asked tiredly.

It was late. We'd decided to sleep in Central Park again. It was huge, dark, and full of trees.

"It's only about eighteen blocks to walk," I said. But Angel was starting to fade too-she wasn't back to a hundred percent by a long shot. And Cookie looked as if she was about to collapse on the sidewalk, she does that a lot. "Let's see how much it would cost."

Five steps down the subway entrance, I was already tense. Nudge, Cookie, Angel, and the Gasman were too tired to hate being in an enclosed space, but Fang, Iggy, and I were twitching.

The fare was two dollars a person, except kids under forty-four inches, who were free. I looked at Angel. Even though she was only six, she was already over four feet tall. But Cookie looked only 2 foot 9. So that was twelve dollars.

Except for the fare, booth was empty. So we'd have to use the automatic fare machine. That is if we were going to be troubled about a small thing like hopping over the turnstile when no one was looking.

Once we were inside, ten minutes went by with no train. Ten long minutes with me feeling like I was about to start screaming and climbing the walls.

As I expected Cookie soon collapsed from exhaustion, that kid had a way of collapsing at the worst of times.

If we'd been followed, if Erasers came…

As Fang picked Cookie up, I saw Iggy turn his head, listening to something from inside the dark tunnel.

"What?" I asked.

"People," he answered. "In there."

"Workers?"

"I don't think so."

I peered into the blackness. Now that I concentrated, I could hear voices too. And way down the line, I saw what looked like the flickering of a fire-its reflected glow from around a bend in the tunnel.

I made a snap decision, which always makes the flock feel so safe and comfortable.

"Let's go," I said, and I jumped off the platform and onto the tracks leading into the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

(Max's POV)

"What does that mean?" the Gasman asked, pointing at a small metal plaque that said Stay off the third rail!

"It means the third rail has seven hundred volts of direct current running through it," Fang said. "Touch it and you're human popcorn."

"Okay," I said. "Good tip. Everyone stay off the third rail."

Then I shot Fang a look that said, Thank you for that lovely image. He almost grinned at me.

Iggy felt the train first. "Everyone off the rails," he said, standing still until I took his arm. We all stepped over to a yucky, disgusting wall and pressed ourselves as flat against it as possible.

Thirty seconds later, a train rushed past so fast that its slipstream made us sway toward it. I kept my knee shoved against Angel so she wouldn't be pulled off her feet.

"Well, that was fairly nerve-racking," I said as we gingerly peeled ourselves off the wall.

"Who's there?" The voice was querulous, aggressive, and rough, as if its owner had spent the last fifty years smoking cigarettes. Maybe he had.

We walked forward, on the alert, wings starting to unfold a tiny bit in case we suddenly needed to go airborne.

"Nobody," I called convincingly as we turned the bend of the tunnel.

"Whoa," the Gasman breathed.

Before us was a city. A small, ragged city in Manhattan's basement. Groups of people clotted a large concrete cavern. The ceiling was three stories above us and dripped with paint stalactites and humid condensation.

Several unwashed faces looked toward us, and someone said, "Not cops. Kids."

They turned away, uninterested, except for one woman who seemed to be wearing about five layers of clothing. "You got food?" she barked.

Silently, Nudge pulled a napkin-wrapped knish out of her pocket and handed it over. The woman sniffed it, looked at it, then turned her back to us and started eating.

Here and there the cavern was dotted with fifty-gallon oil drums in which people had made fires. It was a warm night, but the fires provided the only light and helped get rid of the dank chill that was creeping up my legs.

It was a whole new world, made up of homeless people, people who didn't fit in anywhere, runaways… We saw a handful of kids who looked around our age.

I realized that my head was aching. It had been growing worse all evening, and now I just wanted to go to sleep.

"Over there," said the knish woman, pointing. We looked and saw a narrow concreteledge built into a wall. It was hundreds of feet long, and people were sleeping on it, sitting on it, marking off their territory with old blankets or cardboard boxes. The woman had pointed out a thirty-foot-long section that seemed unoccupied.

I looked at Fang, and he shrugged. It wasn't as nice as the park, but it was warm, dry, and seemed somewhat safe. We scrambled up the ledge, with me boosting Angel. Fang had some trouble getting up onto the ledge with the unconscious Cookie. Keeping our backs to everyone, we stacked our fists and tapped twice. Almost instantly, Nudge lay down, pillowing her head on her hands. Fang put Cookie down next to him, resting her head on his lap trying to make her comfortable.

Fang and I sat with our backs against the wall. I dropped my head into my hands and started rubbing my temples.

"You okay?" Fang asked.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I'll be better tomorrow."

"Go to sleep," said Fang. "I'll take the first watch."

I gave him a grateful smile, and soon I was out, out, out-with no idea how we would ever know it was morning.


	11. Chapter 11

(Max's POV)

The brain explosion came again while I was sleeping.

One moment I was lost in a dream in which I was strolling lazily through a field of yellow flowers, like a dopey shampoo commercial, and the next I had jack-knifed into a sitting position, holding my head and feeling like this was it: Death had finally come for me, and it wasn't taking no for an answer.

My breaths were tight hisses. Jagged shards of pain ripped through my skull, and I heard myself whimper. Please let it be fast, I begged God. Please just end it, end it, end it now. Please, please, please.

"Max?" Fang's low voice, right by my ear, seeped through the waves of agony. Soon Cookie's I couldn't respond. My face was awash with tears. If I had been standing on a cliff, nothing could have kept me from throwing myself off. With my wings tucked in.

Inside my brain, images flashed incomprehensibly, making me sick, assaulting my senses with pictures, words, sounds. A voice speaking gibberish. Maybe it was mine.

As if from a great distance, I felt Fang's hand on my shoulder, but it was like watching a movie-it seemed totally unrelated to what I was going through. My teeth were clenched so hard my jaw ached, and then I tasted blood-I had bitten into my lip.

When was I going to see the proverbial tunnel of white light I'd heard about? With people waiting for me at the other end, smiling and holding out their hands? Don't kids with wings go to heaven?

Then an angry voice filtered through the pain: "Who's screwing with my Mac?"


	12. Chapter 12

(Max's POV)

Just as before, the pain slowly ebbed, and I almost cried with frustration: If it was ending, I wasn't dead. If I wasn't dead, I could go through this again.

Images flashed across the backs of my eyes, but they were unfocused and undecipherable. If I had been alone, I would have started bawling. Instead, I had to desperately try to keep it together, try not to wake the younger ones (if I hadn't already), try not to give our position away.

"Who are you?" The angry voice came again. "What are you doing? You've crashed my whole system, worthless dipstick!"

Ordinarily, I would have been on my feet by now, pushing Angel and the others in the back of me, an angry snarl on my face.

However, tonight I was crumpled in a humiliated, whimpering ball, holding my head, eyes squeezed shut, trying not to sob like a complete weenie.

"What are you talking about?" Fang asked an edge of steel in his voice. I soon heard a sleepy voice join in, "Who's there? Is it morning yet?" Apparently, I had woken up Cookie, of all times that kid had to wake up now. She soon gave me a concerned look and asked, "Max are you OK?"

"Don't worry Cookie, go back to sleep," Fang said saving my butt. Cookie obeyed and within seconds was fast asleep.

"My system crashed. I've tracked the interference, and it's comin' from you. So I'm tellin' you to knock it off or else!"

I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, totally mortified that a stranger was seeing me like this.

"And what's wrong with her? She trippin'?"

"She's fine," Fang snapped. "We don't know anything about your computer. If you're not brain-dead, you'll get out of here." No one sounds colder or meaner than Fang when he wants to.

The other guy said flatly, "I'm not going nowhere till you quit messing with my Mac. Why don't you get your girlfriend to a hospital?"

Girlfriend? Oh, God, was I going to catch it later about that. It was enough to make me lever up on one arm, then pull myself to a sitting position.

"Who the hell are you?" I snarled, the effect totally ruined by the weak, weepy sound of my voice. Blinking rapidly, finding even the dim tunnel light painful, I struggled to focus on the intruder.

I got a hazy impression of someone about my age; a ragged-looking kid wearing old army fatigues. He had a dingy PowerBook attached to straps around his shoulders like a xylophone or something.

"None of your beeswax!" he shot back. "Just quit screwing up my motherboard."

I was still clammy and nauseated, still had a shocking headache and felt trembly, but I thought I could string a complete sentence together. "What are you talking about?"

"This!" The kid turned his Mac toward us, and when I saw the screen I actually gasped.

It was a mishmash of flashing images, drawings, maps, streams of code, silent film clips of people talking.

It was exactly the stuff that had flooded my brain during my attack.


	13. Chapter 13

(Max's POV)

Have you ever woken up about a hundred times more exhausted than you were when you went to sleep?

The next morning at least, I assumed it was morning since we were all waking up-I felt like one of the twelve dancing princesses, who danced all night, wore holes in their shoes, and had to sleep it off the next day. Except, oh, yeah: a) I'm not a princess; b) sleeping in a subway tunnel and having another brain attack aren't that much like dancing all night, and c) my combat boots were still in good shape. Other than that, it was exactly the same.

"Is it morning?" Angel asked, yawning.

"Yeah, is it morning?" Cookie agreed sleepily.

"I'm hungry" were, predictably, Nudge's first words.

"Okay, we'll get you some chow," I said tiredly. "Then it's off to find the Institute."

Fang, Iggy, and I had agreed to not tell the younger kids about the hacker or about my latest brain attack. Why make 'em worry?

It took a couple of minutes for us to wend our way through the subway tunnels, back up into light and air. You know you've been breathing something less than primo when the New York street smells really fresh and clean.

"It's so bright," the Gasman said, shielding his eyes. Then, "Is that honey-roasted peanuts?"

Their incredible scent was impossible to resist. You could have an Eraser selling those peanuts, and we'd probably still go. I focused my eyes on the vendor. No. Not an Eraser.

We got some peanuts, and then we walked down Fourteenth Street, chomping, as I tried to figure out a sensible way to comb the city. First, a phone book. We saw a phone kiosk up ahead, but it had only a chain where the phone book had been. Would a store let us use theirs? Hey! Information! I dug some change out of my pocket and picked up the phone. I dialled 411.

"In New York City, the Institute for Higher Living," I said when the automated operator came on.

"We're sorry. There is no listing under that name. Please check and try again."

Frustration was my constant companion. I wanted to scream. "What the he-heck are we supposed to do now?" I asked Fang.

He looked at me, and I could tell he was mulling over the problem. He held out a small waxed-paper bag. "Peanut?"

We kept walking and eating, gazing in constant amazement at the store windows. Everything you could buy in the world was for sale on Fourteenth Street in New York. Of course, we couldn't afford any of it. Still, it was awesome.

"Smile, you're on Candid Camera," said Fang, pointing at a window.

In an electronics store, a short-circuit camera was displaying passersby on a handful of TV screens. Automatically, we ducked our heads and turned away, instinctively paranoid about anyone having our images.

Suddenly, I winced as a single sharp pain hit my temple. At the same time, words scrolling across the TV screens caught my eye. I stared in disbelief as Good morning, Max, filled every screen.

"Jeez," Fang breathed, stopping dead in his tracks.

Iggy bumped into him, saying, "What? What is it?"

"Yeah, what does it say?" Cookie agreed, rubbing her eyes.

"Is that you?" the Gasman asked me. "How do they know you?"

Playing is learning, Max, said the Voice inside my head. It was the same one as last night, and I realized I couldn't tell if it was adult or child, male or female, friend or foe. Great.

Games test your abilities. Fun is crucial to human development. Go have fun, Max.

I halted, oblivious to the gobs of people streaming around us on the street. "I don't want to have fun! I want some answers!" I blurted without meaning to the crazy girl talking back to her little Voice.

Get on the Madison Avenue bus, said the Voice. Get off when it looks fun.


	14. Chapter 14

(Max's POV)

I don't know about the rest of you who have little voices, but something about mine made me feel completely compelled to listen to it.

I blinked and discovered the flock gazing at me solemnly, watching me sink further into total insanity right before their eyes.

"Max, are you okay?" Nudge asked.

I nodded. "I think we should get on the Madison Avenue bus," I said, looking for a street sign.

Fang looked at me thoughtfully. "Why?"

I turned slightly so the others couldn't see me and mouthed, "The Voice."

He nodded. "But Max," he whispered, barely audible, "what if this is all a trap?"

"I don't know!" I said. "But maybe we should do what it says for a while to see."

"Do what, what says?" the Gasman demanded.

I had started walking toward the corner. I heard Fang say, "Max has been hearing a voice, inside her. We don't know what it is." So much for not worrying the others.

"Like her conscience?" Nudge asked. "Do the TVs have anything to do with it?"

"We don't know," said Fang. "Right now it wants us to get on the Madison Avenue bus, apparently."

"Oh, "Cookie said relieved, "So that's who I keep hearing you talk with sometimes."

Wait, what?! Cookie can read minds? This is new.

The bus stop was fourteen blocks away. We got on, and I pushed our fares into the machine. The driver waved us through, saying, "Pass, pass, pass" in a bored voice.

I hoped the Voice didn't want me to keep spending money-we were dangerously low.

For people who get nervous in small, confined spaces or surrounded by other people, riding a bus is pretty much a living nightmare. It was so crowded we had to stand in the aisle with people pressed up against us. I figured we could always kick a window out and jump, but the whole thing frayed my few remaining nerves. My head was swivelling constantly, scanning for Erasers suddenly morphing out of our fellow passengers.

Well, Voice? I thought. What now?

I'm sure this will surprise you, but the Voice did not answer.

Next, to me, Angel trustingly held my hand, watching the city go past the bus windows. It was up to me. I had to keep everyone safe. I had to find the Institute. If my brain attacks killed me, Fang would take over. But until then, I was numero uno. I couldn't let the flock down. Do you hear that, Voice? If you're going to make me let everyone down, you're going to be sorry you ever… entered my brain.

Oh, my God, I was so freaking nuts.

Cookie kept shooting me concerned looks, could she not help but listen to my thoughts and the voice? Before I could ponder it my thoughts were interrupted.

"Okay, people," the bus driver said over the PA system. "Fifty-eighth Street! This is where the fun is!"

Startled, I looked at Fang, then started hustling everyone out the back door of the bus. We stepped into the sunlight. The bus pulled noisily away, leaving us choking on its exhaust. We were at the bottom of Central Park.

"What-" I began, then my eyes widened as I saw a large glass-fronted building across the street. Behind its glass were an enormous teddy bear, a huge wooden soldier, and a fifteen-foot-tall ballerina up on one pointed toe.

The sign said, AFO Schmidt.

The world's most amazing toy store.

Well, okay.


	15. Chapter 15

(Max's POV)

We poor, underprivileged, pathetic bird kids had never been in a toy store.

And AFO Schmidt is where kids think they've died and gone to heaven. Right inside the front door was a huge two-story clock covered with moving figures. The song "It's a Small World" was playing loudly, but I figured that was to keep out the riffraff.

I had no idea why we were here. It seemed too much to hope for that somehow this little romp was getting us closer to finding the Institute, but I made the executive decision to see where it took us.

A life-size stuffed giraffe surrounded by other life-size stuffed animals led the way to the whole stuffed-animal area, which was practically as big as our old house.

I looked down at Gazzy and Angel to see them staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at too many fabulous toys to even comprehend.

"Iggy," the Gasman said, "there's a whole room of Lego and Bionicle."

"Go with them," I told Fang. "And let's keep an eye out for each other, okay?"

He nodded and followed the boys into the Lego room, while I trailed after Angel and Nudge, who were picking up one stuffed animal after another. And Cookie trailed after me trying to figure out where we were and what all of these toys were.

"Oh, my gosh," Nudge was saying, holding a small stuffed tiger. "Oh, Max, isn't he the cutest thing? Oh, his name is Samson."

I dutifully agreed that he was, in fact, the cutest thing and kept glancing around for either an Eraser or some kind of clue my Voice might point me to.

"Max?" Angel tugged on my sleeve. I turned to her, and she held up a small stuffed bear. It was dressed as an angel, with a white gown and little wings on its back. A tiny gold wire halo floated above its head.

Angel's eyes were pleading with me. I checked its price tag. The pleasure of owning this small stuffed bear could be hers for only forty-nine dollars.

"I'm so sorry, Angel," I said, bending down to her eye level. "But this bear is forty-nine dollars. We're almost out of money I don't have anywhere near that. I'm really sorry. I wish I could get it for you. I know it's an angel, just like you." I stroked her hair and handed her the bear back.

"But I want it," Angel snapped at me, which was completely out of character for her.

"I said no. That's it, kiddo."

I wandered a few feet away, still within eyeshot of the girls, to look at a "'mystical" display. There were Magic 8 Balls, and when you shook them, an answer would float to the surface of a little window. I shook one. "Very likely" was its prediction. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to ask it a question.

There was a game called Cabalah!, a Gypsy Fortuneteller game, and the old favourite: an Ouija board. I breathed out, my hands in my pockets, and looked around the store. Maybe we should sleep here tonight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I detected a slight movement, and my raptor gaze locked on it. It was the little Ouija doohickey, the thing that "spirits" are supposed to glide across the board, pointing to certain letters, but everyone knows it's really the kids doing it.

This one was moving with nothing touching it.

I looked around: No one was near. Angel was almost twenty feet away, not looking at it, still holding the angel bear. I waved my hand over it-there were no wires. It had touched the 5 and then the A. I lifted the game board and held it up, in case it was being moved by a magnet underneath. The pointer reached the V and headed toward the E.

Save.

I put the board back down as if it were red-hot.

The small black triangle paused on the T, then moved to the H. Then the .

It slid very slowly toward the W, and I frowned. It moved up and over to the O, and my jaw clenched. By the time it reached the R, I was ready to throw the board across the store. Grimly, I watched as it finished. The L The D. The M, the A, the X.

Save the world, Max.


	16. Chapter 16

(Max's POV)

"Fang!"

He whirled, saw my face, and instantly tapped Iggy's and the Gasman's hands. They joined me and Nudge under the huge clock.

"Let's get out of here," I muttered. "An Ouija board just told me to save the world."

"Gosh, you're, like, famous," said the Gasman, clearly not feeling the ominous dread that I was.

"Where are Cookie and Angel?" Fang asked.

I reached out for them and grabbed air. My head whipped around, and I rushed back to the stuffed animal section. Already, the panic was flooding my senses-it had been barely more than a week since she'd been kidnapped…

Soon we found Cookie sitting in the corner of the Lego room muttering something about cats, dogs, and birds. Fang lifted her up and she buried her face into Fang's neck. I think she has some form of Bipolar.

I skidded to a stop by a life-size chimpanzee hanging from a display. In front of me, Angel was talking to an older woman. I'd never seen an Eraser that old, so my heartbeat ticked down a couple of notches.

Angel looked sad, and she held up the angel bear to show the woman.

"What's she up…" Fang began.

The woman hesitated, then said something I couldn't hear. Angel's face lit up, and she nodded eagerly.

"Someone's buying something for Angel," Iggy said quietly.

Angel knew we were watching her, but she was refusing to meet our eyes. The five of us followed them to the checkout counter, and I watched in disbelief as the woman, seeming a bit bemused, took out her wallet and paid for Angel's bear. Angel was practically jumping up and down with happiness. She bounced on her heels, clutching the bear to her chest, and I heard her say "Thank you" about a thousand times.

Then, still looking slightly confused, the woman smiled, nodded, and left the store.

We swarmed around our youngest family member.

"What was that about?" I asked. "Why did that woman buy you that bear? That thing cost forty-nine dollars!"

"What did you say to her?" Iggy demanded. "No one's buying us stuff."

"Nothing," Angel said, holding her bear tightly. "I just asked that lady if she would buy me this bear, 'cause I really, really wanted it and I didn't have enough money."

I started shepherding everyone out the front door before Angel asked someone to buy her the life-size giraffe.

Outside, the sun was bright overhead, and it was time for lunch. Time to get us back on track.

"So you just asked a stranger to buy you an expensive toy, and she did?" I asked Angel.

Angel nodded, smoothing her bear's fur down around its ears. "Yeah. I just asked her to buy it for me. You know, with my mind."


	17. Chapter 17

(Max's POV)

Fang and I exchanged a look. This was a little scary. Actually, a lot scary.

"Um, what do you mean, exactly?" I asked Angel. Okay, so she can pick up on most people's thoughts and feelings. But this was the first I'd heard of her sending a thought.

"I just asked her, in my mind," Angel said absently, straightening the bears' small white wings. "And she said okay. And she bought it for me. I'm going to call it Celeste."

"Angel, are you saying that you influenced that woman so she would buy you the bear?" I asked carefully.

"Celeste," Angel said. "What's influenced?"

"To have an effect on something or someone," I said. "It sounds like you sort of made that woman buy you the bear-"

"Celeste."

"Celeste, whether she wanted to or not. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Angel frowned and shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Then her brow cleared. "Well, I really wanted Celeste. More than anything in the whole wide world."

Like that made it okay.

I opened my mouth to explain the life lesson that was screaming to be learned here, but Fang caught my eye. His expression said, Save it, and I shut up and nodded, waiting to hear his thoughts later.

And now, back to our mission. If only I had one freaking clue as to how to find the Institute.

We stopped and bought falafel for lunch, keeping an eye out for danger as we walked along eating. Angel tucked her bear-Celeste-into the waistband of her pants so she'd have both hands free.

Angel is only six, and God knows her upbringing hasn't exactly been normal. Still, I thought she was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong. I thought she knew that influencing that woman to buy her Celeste was wrong. But she had done it anyway.

Which I found disturbing.

I winced and grabbed my temple just as the silky Voice said, It's just a toy, Max. Kids deserve toys. Don't you think you deserve a toy too?

"I'm too old for toys," I muttered angrily, and Fang glanced at me in surprise.

"Did you want a toy?" the Gasman asked, confused.

"It's the voice again, It's making Max angry." Cookie said frowning as if it hurt her too.

I shook my head. Don't mind me, folks. Just talking to my little Voice again. But at least my head didn't hurt nearly as bad this time.

I'm sorry it hurts sometimes, Max. I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you.

I clamped my lips together so I wouldn't answer it. When I wanted information, it was silent; when I didn't want to hear from it, it got chatty.

It was almost as irritating as Fang.


	18. Chapter 18

(Max's POV)

I was starting to seriously freak out. Everywhere we went, something from the Other Side got to me. If it wasn't a voice in my head, it was a TV screen in a window. It was a hacker kid in a subway tunnel, the contents of my brain displayed on his computer. Bus drivers telling us where the fun was. The Erasers. What's that saying you're not paranoid if somebody really is chasing you?

"We're surrounded," I muttered, staring at the toes of my boots as we walked along.

I felt Fang do a 360 next to me.

"We're wasting time," I finally said in frustration. "We need to find the Institute. Discover our histories and destinies. We don't need to go to toy stores. We've got to get serious about this."

All in good time, Max.

Fang started to answer me, but I held up a finger- one sec.

You need to learn how to relax. Relaxation facilitates learning and communication. Studies have shown it. But you're not relaxing.

"Of course I'm not relaxing!" I hissed under my breath. "We need to find the Institute! We're running out of money! We're constantly in danger!"

The others had stopped and begun watching me with alarm. Fang was probably ready to drag me to the funny farm.

I was totally losing my mind, right? Something had damaged my brain-I'd had a stroke or something, and now I was hearing voices. It made me different from the rest of the flock. Too different. I felt alone.

Well not totally alone, the voice seemed to have a special connection with Cookie. It seemed like she couldn't help but hear the voice too.

Just one voice, Max. Not voices. Calm down.

"What's wrong, Max?" asked the Gasman.

I took a deep breath and tried to get a grip. "I feel like I'm about to explode," I said honestly. "Three days ago, Angel said she'd heard there was more info about us in a place called the Institute, in New York. More info. This could be what we've always wanted to know."

" 'Cause we might find out about our parents?" Iggy said.

"Yes," I answered. "But now we're here, and really weird things are happening, and I'm not sure-" With no warning, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Hello, kids!"

Directly in front of us, two Erasers leapt out of the doorway of a building.

Angel screamed, and I instinctively grabbed her arm, jerking her back hard. Cookie also screamed and clung to Fang. In a split second, I had swung around and we were racing down the sidewalk at top speed. Fang and Iggy were behind us, Nudge and the

Gasman on either side, Cookie was in Fang's arms having what seemed to be a panic attack. The sidewalks were full of people, and it was like an obstacle course.

"Cross!" I yelled and darted into the street. The seven of us whisked between two passing taxis, whose drivers honked angrily. Behind us, I heard a loud thunk! and a startled, half-choked cry.

"Bicycle messenger took an Eraser out!" Fang shouted.

Can you giggle while racing for your life and protecting a six-year-old? I can.

But two seconds later, a heavy clawed hand grabbed my hair, yanking me backwards, right off my feet. Angel's hand was ripped out of mine, and she screamed bloody murder. You think you understand that words-bloody murder? Trust me; you don't.


	19. Chapter 19

(Max's POV)

Without pausing, the powerful Eraser swung me up over his shoulder. Talk about being dead meat.

I smelled his harsh animal smell, saw his bloodshot eyes. He was laughing, happy to have caught me, and his long yellow fangs actually looked too big for his mouth. Angel was still screaming.

Bloody murder!

I kicked and yelled and hit and punched and scratched, but the Eraser just laughed and started tearing down the sidewalk while people stared. "Is this a movie?" I heard someone ask.

Nah-this is too original for Hollywood. They do sequels.

Lifting my head, I saw Fang, dark and determined, streaking toward us. He was keeping pace, but he wasn't catching up. If a car was waiting, I was a goner. I struggled as hard as I could, chopping at the Eraser, punching and scratching, and it was infuriating how little effect I had on the beast. Had they been bred to have no pain receptors?

"Fang!" I bellowed, seeing him even farther away than he had been. We were outpacing him. Dimly, I could still hear Angel's high-pitched shrieking. Every nasty swear word I knew came pouring out of my mouth, punctuated with punches and chops and kicks. The Eraser didn't even slow down.

The next thing I knew, we were going down, suddenly and with no warning, as if someone had cut the Eraser's legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, and I cracked my head against the sidewalk so hard I saw fireworks. My legs were pinned, and I frantically started kicking, scrambling out from under him.

He didn't move. Had he knocked himself out? How?

I scrambled back into a trash can, snapped onto all fours, and stared at the Eraser. He was completely still, his eyes open and glassy. Blood trickled out of his mouth, which had morphed halfway to a wolf's snout. A few curious people had paused to watch us, but most kept on walking, talking into their cell phones. Life as usual in New York City.

Fang roared up and pulled me hard to my feet, starting to drag me away.

"Wait!" I said. "Fang-I think he's dead."

Fang looked from me to the Eraser, then nudged his boot against the still form. It didn't move, didn't blink. Still holding my hand and Cookie, Fang knelt and put his fingers against the Eraser's wrist, wary and alert for movement.

"You're right," he said, standing. "He's dead. What'd you do to him?"

"Nothing. I was whaling on him, but it didn't do squat. Then he went down like a ton of bricks."

The crowd thickened and moved a bit closer as the rest of the flock raced up. Angel leapt into my arms and burst into tears. I held her tight and shushed her, telling her it was all right, I was safe.

Fang flipped the Eraser's collar back, just for a second. We both saw the tattoo on the back of his neck: 11-00-07.

Just then, a cop car pulled up, lights flashing, siren wailing.

We started to fade into the background, edging away through the crowd.

"Crazy drug addict!" Fang said loudly.

Then we strode quickly, turning the first corner we came to. I put Angel down and she trotted next to me, keeping up, sniffling. I held her hand tight and gave her a reassuring smile, but actually, I was shaking inside. That had been so freaking close.

We had to find the Institute and get the heck out of here back to the desert. Somewhere they couldn't ever find us. It was late, though. We were almost to the park, where we planned to sleep. In the street beside us, cars and taxis passed, unaware of the high drama that had just taken place.

"So he was five years old," Fang said quietly.

"So that made him one year older than me." Cookie said griping Fang's shirt.

I nodded. "Made in November, the year 2000, number seven of a batch. They're not lasting too long, are they?" How much longer would we last? All of us? Any of us?

I took a deep breath and looked around. My eye was caught by a taxi with one of those flashing-red-dot signs on top that advertise Joe's Famous Pizza, or a cleaning service, or a restaurant. This one had the words racing across its face: "Every journey begins with one step."

It was like a taxi-fortune cookie. Every journey, one step. One step. I blinked.

I stopped where I was and looked down, where my feet were taking one step at a time on this long, bizarre journey.

Then I noticed a stunted, depressed tree set into a hole in the sidewalk. A metal grate protected its roots from being trampled. Barely visible between the bars of the grate was a plastic card. I picked it up, hoping I wouldn't see a burning fuse attached to it.

It was a bank card, the kind you can use at an ATM. It had my name on it: Maximum Ride. I tugged on Fang's sleeve, wordlessly showed him the card. His eyes widened a tiny bit, so I knew he was astonished.

And voila, my ol' pal the Voice popped up just then: You can use it if you can figure out the password.

I looked up, but the mystic taxi was long gone.

"I can use it if I can figure out the password," I told Fang.

He nodded. "Okay."

Swallowing, I tucked the card into my pocket.

"Let's just get into the park," I said. "Nice, safe Central Park."


	20. Chapter 20

(Max's POV)

"How can the Voice know where I am and what I can see?" I whispered to Fang. All six of us had settled onto the wide, welcoming branches of an enormous oak tree in Central Park. Almost forty feet in the air, we could talk softly with no one hearing us.

Unless the tree was wired.

Believe me, I had lost my ability to be surprised by stuff like that.

"It's inside you," Fang answered, settling back against the tree's trunk. "It's wherever you are. If it's tapped into any of your senses, it knows where you are and what you're doing."

Oh, no, I thought, my spirits sinking. I hadn't considered that. Did that mean nothing I did was ever private anymore?

"That's scary," Cookie said playing with her hair.

"Cookie, you think almost everything is scary," Iggy said poking fun at her.

"Even in the bathroom?" The Gasman's eyes widened with surprise and amusement. Nudge suppressed a grin as I gave Gazzy a narrow-eyed glare. Angel was smoothing Celeste's gown and neatening the bear's fur.

I took out the bank card and examined it. I still had the one we'd stolen from the jerk in California, and I compared them. The new one seemed just as legit as the old one. I stuck the old one into a deep fissure in the tree's bark-couldn't use it again anyway.

"So we need to figure out the password," I muttered, turning the new card over and over in my hands. Great. That should only take about a thousand years or so.

I was beyond tired. I also had an impressive knot on my head from whacking the sidewalk. Because, you know, I didn't have enough head problems lately.

Wordlessly, I held out my left fist. Fang put his on top, then Iggy, then Nudge. Gazzy leaned way over from his branch and managed to barely touch us. Angel leaned down and put her fist on Gazzy's, and then Celeste's paw on top of her fist. Cookie put her hand on the very top of the stack, almost falling out of the tree. I heard Gazzy sigh. Or something. We all tapped hands then got comfy on the wide branches. Angel was directly above me, her small foot hanging down to touch my knee. I saw her tuck Celeste firmly against the tree. Kinda sweet.

The evening air washed over me. My last thought was that I was thankful we were together and safe for at least one more night.


	21. Chapter 21

(Max's POV)

"It is unlawful to climb trees in Central Park," boomed a tinny but very loud voice.

My eyes popped open and instantly met Fang's dark ones. We looked down.

A black-and-white was parked below, its lights flashing. Like in New York they didn't have any more important crimes to work on than a bunch of kids sleeping in a tree.

"How did they even know we were up here?" the Gasman muttered. "Who looks up into a tree?"

A uniformed cop was talking to us through a PA system. "It is unlawful to climb trees in Central Park," she repeated. "Please come down at once."

I groaned. Now we had to shimmy clumsily down instead of just jumping and landing like the amazing super-duper mutants we were.

"Okay, guys," I said. "Get down; try to look normal. When we're on the ground, we'll make a run for it. If we get separated, connect up at, like, Fifty-fourth Street and Fifth Avenue. Comprende?"

They nodded. Fang went down first, and Iggy followed him, carefully feeling his way. Man, for big adolescent kids, they were some awesome, squirrelly climbers.

Angel went next, then Nudge, then Gazzy, then Cookie who almost fell a few times, and I went last.

"There are signs posted everywhere clearly stating that climbing trees is forbidden," one cop began pompously. We started to back away slowly, trying to look as if we weren't really moving.

"Are you runaways?" asked the female cop. "We'll take you somewhere. You can make phone calls, call your folks."

Uh, officer, there's a little problem with that…

Another cruiser pulled up, and two more police people got out. Then a walkie-talkie buzzed, and the first cop pulled it out to answer it.

"Now!" I whispered, and the six of us scattered, tearing away from them as fast as we could.

"Celeste!" I heard Angel cry, and I whirled to see her turning back to pick up her little bear. Two cops were racing toward it.

"No!" I yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her with me. She almost fought me, planting her feet and trying to unbend my fingers from around her wrist. I swung her up into my arms and took off, tossing her to Fang when I reached him.

With a fast glance back, I saw that the female cop had picked up the bear and was staring after us. Behind her, the others were jumping into their cruisers. Just as I sped around a corner, I saw a tall cop sliding into his car. I blinked hard, twice, and my heart seemed to freeze. It was Jeb. Or was it? I shook my head and ran on, catching up to the others.

"Celeste!" Angel cried, reaching back over Fang's shoulder. "Celeste!" She sounded heartbroken, and it killed me to make her leave her toy behind. But if I had to choose between Angel and Celeste, it was going to be Angel every time. Even if she hated me for it.

"I'll get you another one!" I promised rashly, my legs pumping as I kept up with Fang.

"I don't want another one!" she wailed, putting her arms around Fang's neck and starting to cry.

"Have we lost 'em?" the Gasman called back over his shoulder.

I looked back. Two police cars with lights and sirens were weaving through the heavy traffic toward us.

"No!" I put my head down and ran faster.

Cookie fell off of Fang's back, but I caught her just before she hit the ground.

Sometimes it felt as if we would never be free, be safe. Never, ever, as long as we lived. Which might not be that much longer, anyway.


	22. Chapter 22

(Max's POV)

We headed south and east, out of the park, hoping to get lost among the ever-present crowds of people jamming the streets.

Fang put Angel down and she dutifully ran, her small face white and streaked with tears. I felt really, really bad about Celeste. Iggy ran next to me, his hand out to barely brush against me. He was so good at keeping up, following us, that it was easy to forget sometimes that he was blind. We passed Fifty-fourth Street-the police were still behind us.

"Inside a store?" Fang asked, pulling up beside me. "Then out through a back exit?"

I thought. If only we could take off, get airborne-leave the ground and the noise and the crowds and the cops behind, be up in the blue, blue sky, free…My wings itched with the urge to snap open, unfurl to their full size, catch the sun and wind in them.

"Yeah, maybe so," I shot back. "Let's turn east on Fifty-first."

We did. Then we pounded down the pavement. Really fast. I almost laughed when I realized it was a one-way street going the wrong way: The cruisers would have to take a detour.

If only we could find a safe haven before they caught up to us…

"What's that?" Nudge called, pointing.

I skidded to a halt, the way they do in cartoons. In front of us was an enormous grey stone building. It soared up into the sky, all pointy and lacy on top, not like a skyscraper. More as if grey stone crystals had grown toward the sky, stretching up and thinning out as they went. There were three arched doors, with the middle one being the biggest.

"Is it a museum?" Gazzy asked.

I scanned for a sign. "No," I said. "It's Saint Patrick's Cathedral. It's a church."

"A church!" Nudge looked excited. "I've never been in one. Can we go?"

I was about to remind her that we were running for our lives, not playing tourist, but then Fang said quietly, "Sanctuary."

And I remembered that in the past, churches used to be safe havens for people-cops weren't allowed in them. Like hundreds of years ago. That probably wasn't the case anymore. But it was huge and full of tourists, and it was as good a place to try to get lost as any.


	23. Chapter 23

(Max's POV)

A steady stream of people was filing through the huge middle double doors. We merged with them and tried to blend in. As we passed through the door, the air was instantly cooler and scented with something that smelled ancient and churchy and just… religious, somehow.

Inside, people split up. One group was gathering for a guided tour, and others were simply milling around, reading plaques, picking up pamphlets.

It was incredibly quiet, considering it was a building the size of a football field, full of hundreds of people.

Toward the front, people were sitting or kneeling in pews, their heads bowed.

"Let's go," I said softly. "Up there."

The seven of us walked silently down the cool marble-tile floor toward the huge white altar at the front of the church. Nudge's mouth was wide open, her head craned back as she stared at the sunlight filtering through all the stained-glass windows. Above us, the ceiling was three stories high and all arched and carved like a palace.

"This place is awesome," breathed the Gasman, and I nodded. I felt good in here, safe, even though Erasers or cops could just stroll through the doors like anybody else. But it was enormous inside, and crowded, and yet there was good visibility. Not a bad place at all. A good place.

"What are those people doing?" Angel whispered.

"I think they're praying," I whispered back.

"Let's pray too," Angel said.

"Uh-" But she had already headed toward an empty pew. She eased her way to the middle, then reached down and pulled out the little kneeler thing. I saw her examine the other people for the proper form, then she knelt and bowed her head onto her clasped hands.

I bet she was praying for Celeste.

We filed into the pew after her, kneeling awkwardly and self-consciously. Iggy brushed his hand along Gazzy, light as a feather, then mimicked his position.

"What are we praying for?" he asked softly.

"Urn-anything you want?" I guessed.

"We're praying to God, right?" Nudge checked to make sure.

"I think that's the general idea," I said, not really having much of a clue. And yet, an odd sensation came over me, like, if you were ever going to ask for anything, this would be the place to do it. With the high, sweeping ceiling, all the marble and glory and religion and passion surrounding us, it felt like this was a place where seven homeless kids just might be heard.

"Dear God," said Nudge under her breath, "I want real parents. But I want them to want me too. I want them to love me. I already love them. Please see what you can do. Thanks very much. Love, Nudge."

Okay, so I'm not saying we were pros at this or anything.

"Please get Celeste back to me," Angel whispered, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "And help me grow up to be like Max. And keep everyone safe. And do something bad to the bad guys. They should not be able to hurt us anymore. And let Cookie not be afraid of everything anymore."

Amen, I thought.

With surprise, I saw that Fang's eyes were shut. But his lips weren't moving, and I couldn't hear anything. Maybe he was just resting.

"Dear Mr. God person,"Cookie whispered,"can you please let Angel get her Celeste back. She is really sad and I don't want her to be sad. And could you please make the voice in Max's head stop 'cause it hurts Max and me to. Also give Iggy his sight back he wants to see again. And please let big brother happy, can you also give Nudge real parents she's kind of lonely. Love Cookie. Oh and P.S. please let me be braver so that Iggy and Gazzy will stop teasing me."

Cookie is such a sweet kid.

"I want to be able to see stuff," Iggy said. "Like I used to when I was little. And I want to be able to totally kick Jeb's butt. Thank you."

"God, I want to be big and strong," the Gasman whispered, and I felt my throat close up, looking at his flyaway pale hair, his eyes shut in concentration. He was only eight, but who knew when his expiration date was? "So I can help Max, and other people too."

I swallowed hard, blinking fast to keep any tears at bay. I breathed in heavily and breathed out, then did a surreptitious 360. The whole cathedral was calm, peaceful, Eraser-free.

Had that been Jeb I saw, back with the cops? Were the cops really cops or were they goons from the School-or from the Institute? What a bummer that Angel had dropped Celeste. Jeez, the kid finally gets to have one thing she cares about, and then fate rips it from her hands.

"Please help Angel about Celeste," I found myself muttering, and realized I had closed my eyes. I had no idea who I was talking to-I'd never really thought about if I believed in God. Would God have let the white-coats at the School do what they had done to us? How did it work, exactly?

But I was on a roll now, so I went with it. "And help me be a better leader, a better person," I said, moving my lips with no sound. "Make me braver, stronger, smarter. Help me take care of the flock. Help me find some answers. Uh, thanks." I cleared my throat.

I don't know how long we were there-till my kneecaps started to go numb.

It was like a beautiful peace stole over us, the way a soft breeze would smooth our feathers.

We liked this house. We didn't want to leave.


	24. Chapter 24

(Max's POV)

I gave serious thought to staying in that cathedral, hiding, sleeping there. There were choir lofts way up high, and the place was huge. Maybe we could do it. I turned to Fang.

"Should we-" I winced as a sharp pain burst in my head. The pain wasn't as bad as before, but I shut my eyes and couldn't speak for a minute.

The images came, sliding across my brain like a movie. There were architectural drawings, blueprints, which looked like subway lines. Double helixes of DNA twisted and spiralled across my screen, they were overlaid with faded, unreadable newspaper clippings, staccato chunks of sound, coloured postcards of New York. One image of a building stayed for a few seconds, a tall, greenish building. I saw its address: Thirty-first Street. Then a stream of numbers floated past me. Man, oh, man, oh, man-what did it mean?

I took a couple of deep breaths, feeling the pain ease away. My eyes opened in the dim light of the cathedral. six very concerned faces were watching me. "Can you walk?" Fang asked tersely. I nodded. We went out through the tall doors behind a group of Japanese tourists. It was too bright outside, and I shaded my eyes, feeling headachy and kind of sick.

As soon as we were away from the crowd, I stopped. "I saw Thirty-first Street, in my head," I said. "And a bunch of numbers."

"Which means…" Iggy prompted.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe the Institute is on Thirty-first Street?"

"That would be nice," said Fang. "East or west?"

"I don't know."

"Did you see anything else?" he asked patiently.

"Well, a bunch of numbers," I said again. "And a tall, kind of greenish building."

"We should just walk all the way down Thirty-first Street," said Nudge. "The whole way, looking for that building. Right? I mean, if that's the building you saw, maybe it was for a good reason. Or did you see a whole lot of buildings or a whole city, or what?"

"Just that building," I said.

Nudge's brown eyes widened. Angel looked solemn. We all felt the same: twitchy with nervous anticipation and also overwhelmed with dread. On the one hand, the Institute might very well hold the key to everything, the answer to every question we'd ever had about ourselves, our past, our parents. We might even find out about the mysterious director the whitecoats had mentioned.

On the other hand, it felt like we were voluntarily going up to the School and ringing the doorbell. Like we were delivering ourselves to evil. And those two feelings were pulling us all in half. You never know until you know, my Voice chimed in.


	25. Chapter 25

(Max's POV)

"So do we have money? I hope?" the Gasman asked as we passed a street vendor selling Polish sausage.

"Maybe," I said, pulling out the bank card. What do you think?" I asked Fang. "Should we try this?"

"Well, we need money, for sure," he said. "But it might be a trap, a way for them to track where we are and what we're doing."

"Yeah." I frowned.

It's okay, Max. You can use it, said my Voice. Once you get the password.

Thank you, Voice, I thought sourly. Any hopes of you just telling me the freaking password? Of course not. God forbid anything should come easily to us.

We had to have money. We could try begging, but we'd probably get the cops called on us ASAP. Runaways and all that. Getting jobs was out of the question also. Stealing? It was a last resort. We weren't to that point yet.

This bank card would work at any number of different banks. Taking a deep breath, I swerved over to an ATM. I swiped the card and punched in "maxride."

No dice.

Next I tried our ages: 14, 11, 8, 6, 4.

Wrong.

I tried typing in "password."

Wrong. The machine shut down and told me to call customer service.

We kept walking. In a way, it was like we were deliberately slowing ourselves down, to give us time to buck up for the Institute. Or at least, that's what my inner Dr. Laura thought.

"What about, like, the first initial of all of our names?" the Gasman suggested.

"Maybe it's something like 'givememoney,' " Nudge said.

I smiled at her. "It has to be shorter than that."

Beside me, Angel was walking with her head down, her little feet dragging.

If I had money, I could get her another Celeste.

In the next block, at a different ATM, I tried the first initials of all our names: "MFINGAC." Nope.

I tried "School" and "Maximum."

It told me to call customer service.

Farther on, I keyed in "Fang."

"Iggy," and "Gasman."

In the next block, I tried "Nudge" and "Angel," then on a lark I tried today's date.

They really wanted me to call customer service.

I know what you're thinking: Did I try our birthdays or our Social Security numbers?

No. None of us knew our actual birth dates, though we had each picked a day we liked and called it our birthday. And the nut jobs at the School had mysteriously neglected to register any of us with the Social Security Administration. So none of us could retire any time soon.

I stopped in front of the next ATM but shook my head in frustration. "I don't know what to do," I admitted, and it was maybe the second time those words had ever left my lips.

Angel looked up tiredly, her blue eyes sad. "Why don't you try 'mother'?" she asked, and started tracing a crack on the sidewalk with the toe of her sneaker.

"Why do you think that?" I asked, surprised.

She shrugged, her arm moving to hold Celeste tighter and then falling emptily to her side.

Fang and I exchanged glances, then I slowly swiped the bank card and punched in the numbers that would spell out "mother."

What kind of transaction do you want to make? the screen asked.

Speechless, I withdrew two hundred dollars and zipped it into my inside pocket.

"How did you know that?" Fang asked Angel. His tone was neutral, but tension showed in his walk.

"Yay Angel!" Cookie cheered truly happy sounding.

Angel shrugged again, her small shoulders drooping. Even her curls looked limp and sad. "It just came to me," she said.

"In a voice?" I asked, wondering if my Voice was hopping around.

She shook her head no. "The word was just in my head. I don't know why."

Once again, Fang and I looked at each other but didn't say anything. I didn't know what was on his mind, but I was thinking again about how Angel had been at the School for a few days before we rescued her. Who knows what happened there? What kind of foul, disgusting experiments? Maybe they'd planted a chip in her too.

Or worse.


	26. Chapter 26

(Max's POV)

A few more blocks, and we turned left, walking toward the East River. Inside me, the tension mounted. My breath was coming in short huffs. Every step was bringing us closer to what could be the Institute: the place where the secrets of our lives might be revealed, all our questions answered.

And here's the thing: I wasn't even sure I wanted my questions answered. What if my mom had given me away on purpose, like Gasman and Angel's? What if my parents were horrible people? Or what if they were wonderful, fabulous people who didn't want a freak mutant daughter with thirteen-foot wings? I mean, not knowing almost seemed easier.

But we walked along, examining each building. Again and again the others looked at me, only to see me shake my head no. We walked down several looong blocks, and with each step, I was getting more and more uptight, and so was everyone else.

"I wonder what the Institute is like," Nudge said nervously. "I guess it's like the School. Will we have to break in? How do they hide the Erasers from all the normal people? What kind of files on us do you think they have? Like actual parent names, you think?"

"For God's sake, Nudge, my ears are bleeding!" Iggy said with his usual tact.

Her sweet face shut down, and I put my arm around her shoulders briefly. "I know you're worried," I said softly. "I am too."

"Iggy, please don't be so mean." Cookie said looking at Iggy over Fang's shoulder.

She smiled at me, and then I saw it: 433 East Thirty-first Street.

It was the building from the drawing in my brain.

And if you don't think that's a weird sentence, maybe you should reread it.

The building rose tall, maybe forty-five stories, and had a greenish facade, kind of old-fashioned looking.

"Is this it?" Iggy asked.

"Yep," I said. "Are we ready?"

"Aye, Captain!" Iggy said firmly, and saluted.

I so wished he could see me roll my eyes at him.

We marched up the steps and pushed through revolving doors. Inside, the lobby was all polished wood, brass, and big tropical plants. The floor was smooth granite tiles.

"Here," said Fang softly, pointing to a large display board behind glass. It listed all the offices and companies in the building, and their floors and room numbers.

There was no Institute for Higher Living. There was no institute of any kind.

Because that would have been too easy, right?

I rubbed my forehead, holding back bitter words of disappointment. Inside, I felt like crying and yelling and stomping around, and then getting into a hot shower and crying some more.

Instead, I took a deep breath and tried to think. I looked around. No other office lists anywhere.

At the reception desk, a woman sat behind a laptop computer. A security guard had another desk across the lobby.

"Excuse me," I said politely. "Are there any other companies in this building that aren't on the board?"

"No." The receptionist looked us over, then went back to typing something incredibly urgent-like her resume for another job. We turned away just as the receptionist made a sound of surprise. Glancing back, I saw that her computer screen had cleared. The pit of my stomach started to hurt.

There's a pot of gold beneath every rainbow, filled her laptop screen in big red letters. The message broke up into smaller letters that then scrolled across the screen over and over, filling it.

Pot of gold beneath every rainbow… Okay, did leprechauns work here? Was Judy Garland going to burst into song? Why couldn't I just get some straight information? Because it was a puzzle, a test. I literally gnashed my teeth. Beneath every… Hmm.

"Does this building have a basement?" I asked.

The receptionist frowned at me and looked us over again with a harder gaze.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What do you want?" She lifted her chin and caught the eye of the security guard. Were they Erasers? They definitely could be Erasers. This whole building might be full of despicable wolf men.

"Never mind," I muttered, pushing the others toward the revolving doors. The security guard was already on our tails, and just as we all got through, I jammed a ballpoint pen into the door channel. The guard was trapped inside one section and started throwing his weight against the glass.

On the street, we hit the ground running.


	27. Chapter 27

My lungs were burning. Know the feeling? About six blocks later, we slowed to a walk. No one seemed to be following us, no cop carshad emerged from the traffic, no sign of Erasers. My head was pounding and it hurt like crazy. I felt like I needed a time-out from life.

With no warning, the Gasman turned and punched a mailbox. "This sucks!" he yelled. "Nothing ever goes right! We get hassled everywhere! Max's head is busted, Angel lost Celeste, we're all hungry-I hate this! I hate everything!"

Stunned, I shut my gaping jaw and went over to him. When I put my hand on his shoulder, he pushed it away. The others crowded around-it was so unusual for Gazzy to break down like this. He was always my little trouper.

Crap.

The flock was watching me, waiting for me to tell the Gasman to snap out of it, get it together. Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around Gazzy, surrounding him. I rested my head against his and just held him tight. I smoothed his light hair with my fingers and felt his narrow back shaking.

"I'm sorry, Gazzy," I murmured. "You're right. This has really sucked. I know it's hard sometimes. Listen, what would make you feel better right now?" I swear, if he'd said, Check into the Ritz, I would have done it.

He sniffled and straightened a bit, wiping his face on his grubby sleeve. I resolved to get us new clothes soon. 'Cause I was Ms. Bank Card.

"Really?" he said, sounding very small and young.

"Really."

"Well, I just want-I just want to, like, sit down somewhere and eat a lot of food. Not just get food while we're walking. I want to sit down and rest and eat."

I looked solemnly into his eyes. "I think that can be arranged."


	28. Chapter 28

We ended up back near Central Park, searching for a place to eat. A diner on Fifty-seventh Street looked good, but there was a half-hour wait. Then, off the street inside the park, we saw a restaurant. Millions of tiny blue lights covered the oak trees that surrounded it. The sign said, Parking for Garden Tavern, This Way. Plunked among the trees was a huge building with tons of plate glass windows overlooking the park.

Gazzy said excitedly. "This looks great!"

It was also the last place on earth I wanted us to go. Too big, too flashy, too expensive, and no doubt full of trendy grown-ups. We were not going to blend. We would not be inconspicuous.

And yet, the Gasman wanted to eat here. And I had promised him pretty much anything he wanted.

"Uh, okay," I said, already feeling dread and anxiety seeping from my pores. Fang pulled open the heavy glass door, and we stepped inside.

"Whoa," Nudge said, her eyes wide.

From the reception area, we could see three different dinning rooms. There was the Prism Room, which was dripping with crystals, basically: chandeliers, candelabras, faceted windows. Door number two led to the Garden Room, which was like a lush, overgrown rainforest, but with tables, chairs, and waiters. The third one was the Castle Room, for those of us who needed to feel regal while we chowed. They all had soaring ceilings with rafters. The Castle Room had an open fireplace big enough to roast a steer.

I was glad to see we weren't the only kids-though we were the only ones without a grown-up.

"May I help you?" A tall, blond, modelly woman glanced at us, then looked to see who we were with. "Are you waiting for yourparents?"

"No," I said. "There's just us." I smiled. "Can we have a table for seven, please? I'm treating everybody with my birthday money." Another lie, another smile.

"Um, okay," said the hostess. She led us to a table in the Castle Room, way back by the kitchen. Since the kitchen would be a useful escape route, if necessary, I didn't quibble.

She passed out large, very fancy menus as we scrambled into our seats. "Jason will be your server today." With one last, uncertain glance, she left us.

"Max, this is so, so great," Nudge said excitedly, clutching her enormous menu. "This is the nicest place we've ever eaten!"

Since we've Dumpster-dived for lunch on many occasions, this was an understatement. Fang, Iggy, and I were miserable. Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel were ecstatic.

Actually, the Castle Room would have been neat, if I didn't hate crowds, sticking out, grown-ups, feeling paranoid, and spending money.

On to the menu. I was relieved to see that they had a kids' section.

"Are you waiting for your parents?" A short, stocky waiter with slicked-back red hair-Jason-was standing next to Iggy.

"No, there's just us," I said.

He frowned slightly and gave us a once-over. "Ah. Are you ready to order?"

"Anyone know what they want?" I asked.

The Gasman looked up. "How many chicken tenders are on a plate?"

Jason looked almost pained. "I believe there are four."

"I better have two orders, then," said the Gasman. "And this fruit cocktail. And two glasses of milk."

"Two orders for yourself?" Jason clarified.

The Gasman nodded. "With fries. To start."

"I want a hot-fudge sundae," said Angel.

"Real food first," I said. "You need fuel."

"Okay," Angel said agreeably, then blinked and looked up at Jason. "We're not spoiled rich brats," she said. "We're just hungry."

Jason started, then his face flushed and he shifted his feet.

"I want this prime rib thing," Angel said, looking at the adult side of the menu. "And all this stuff that goes with it. And a soda. And lemonade."

"The prime rib is sixteen ounces," our waiter said. "It's a pound of meat."

"Uh-huh," Angel said, wondering what he was getting at.

"She can handle it," I said. "She's a big eater. Nudge? What do you want?"

"This lasagna primavera," Nudge decided. "I might need two. It comes with salad, right? And bread? Some milk. Okay?" She looked at me, and I nodded.

Jason just stood there-he thought we were pulling his leg. "Two lasagnas?"

"You might want to start writing this stuff down," I suggested. I waited till he had noted their orders, then said, "I'll start with the shrimp cocktail. Then the maple-glazed roast pork loin, with the cabbage and potatoes and everything. The house salad with blue cheese dressing. And a lemonade and an iced tea."

Jason wrote it all down, as if he were enduring an hour-long eye-poke.

"The lobster bisque," Fang said. "Then the prime rib. A big bottle of water."

"The spaghetti and meatballs," Iggy said.

"That's on the children's menu," our waiter said, sounding tense. "For our patrons twelve and under."

Iggy looked ticked off.

"How about the rack of lamb?" I said quickly. "It comes with potatoes and spinach, and a merlot-rosemary sauce."

"Fine, okay," Iggy said, irritated. "Plus a couple glasses of milk and some bread."

"Hey, Cook. What do you want?" Fang asked Cookie who had been dozing on his lap. Damn this kid sleeps a lot.

"Um, can i just have some bread and water? My tummy doesn't feel very nice." Cookie said quietly, burring her face into Fang's shirt.

"She'll have a kid's macaroni, some bread and an iced tea." Fang ordered for her with a worried glance at Cookie.

Jason lowered his pad and looked at us. "This is a great deal of food for just the seven of you," he said. "Maybe you've overordered."

"I understand your concern," I said, my tension starting to get the better of me. "But it's okay. Just bring it, please."

"You'll have to pay for all of it, whether you eat it or not."

"Yeah, that's usually how a restaurant works," I said slowly, with exaggerated patience.

"This is going to really add up," he persisted unwisely.

"I get it," I said, trying unsuccessfully to keep my cool. "I get the concept. Food costs money. Lots of food costs lots of money. Just bring us what we ordered. Please."

Jason looked at me stiffly and stalked away toward the kitchen.

"I love this place," Fang said with a straight face.

"Did we order too much?" Angel asked.

"No," I said. "It's fine. I guess they're not used to hearty eaters."

An underling brought us two baskets of bread and set out small dishes of olive oil. Even she seemed skeptical.

My fingers curled into claws on the white tablecloth. And it all kind of went downhill from there.


	29. Chapter 29

(Max POV)

"Cookie are you okay? You didn't order very much." Iggy said biting into a piece of bread. Cookie shivered and buried her face deeper into Fang's shirt.

"She said that her stomach hurts. I ordered more for her than she actually wanted. She just wanted some bread and water. I thought that maybe if she ate a little her stomach would start to feel better." Fang sighed and rubbed Cookie's back.

Now that I think of it, Cookie hasn't been eating nearly as much as she should with her high metabolism (comes with the wings.) especially after not being able to eat for so long. I thought a little longer then it dawned on me, she had never been outside the school, meaning she had never been able to eat enough when she got food or had food withheld for entire days on end. Cookie's stomach wasn't yet used to all the different food we've been feeding her. She also isn't used to having so much food at one time. I mentally sighed, when this whole Institute thing is over we're going to need to work on that. I was suddenly brought out of my thoughts when what seemed to be the manager cleared his throat.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked in a mock cheerful tone.

"Yes, it seems you have ordered an unreasonable amount of food." The manager said in a sickly sweet tone(making my blood boil.)

"Well we have the money to pay for it so will you please just give us our food." I replied, trying not to raise my voice and scare Cookie.

"Well, I do believe Jason here told you that you ordered too much food." The manager quipped, a look of mock patience gracing his roundish face.

I nodded and tightened my grip on the tablecloth, this man was not trying to get on my good side. Iggy tensed and groaned in frustration, " This is stupid. C'mon Gasser, let's just split and eat someplace else, okay?"

"Okay," said the Gasman uncertainly.

"Fine," I said tensely, standing up quickly. I motioned for the rest of the flock to follow, prompting Fang to stand up and place Cookie on his hip. "We're going. The food's probably lousy here, anyway."

That's when the cops showed up.

_Who called the cops?_

_ Were they even real cops?_

I wasn't planning on sticking around to ask them.


End file.
